


I'll just go for it

by sheewo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee Shops, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26358931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheewo/pseuds/sheewo
Summary: Uni stress, being adult, being depressed, and falling in love.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma (mentioned)
Kudos: 2





	1. In which Oikawa can't pee

‘Oikawa, you! are! a piece! of shit!’

Being a hopeful teenager and wondering about what my college life was going to be, never had I expected to utter this sentence with such terrific frequency. “Where’s my Redbull?”, “Let’s order pizza!”, “Who the fuck threw up on the floor?” - anything but the glorious words I now have the questionable pleasure of repeating almost every damn morning.

‘Can’t hear the haters!’ shouted the human embodiment of Taylor Swift’s discography over the white noise of his unfortunately well working hairdryer, with which I have (against my will) come into great acquaintance over the course of it waking me up almost every damn morning. Explanations, persuasions, threats and implores, as the practice had already shown, did not work well with him, so i had only two promising options left. First: to cut the fucking wire of the deafening machine with the additional option of hairdrying, and second: to ask Hajime for nudes, so the fancy and slightly disheveled head of my dear roommate would be preoccupied with something else. However, after a slight reconsideration of the possibilities, I have concluded that both of them could hardly be called “promising”. Even though the first one would for sure cease the hairdrying torture, the title of the white noise source would be immediately taken up by the same fancy roommate, who would be yelling and screaming and, in fact, annoying me even more. Moreover, it would be expected from me to pay for a new devil’s device, and since I, as a real freshman, am broke, the option has to be ruled out. The problem with the second one (besides Iwaizumi Hajime asassinating me immediately after reading the text) is that after their “taking a break” in the words of Oikawa or “breaking up” in the words of common sense, the execution of such a plan would be simply cruel. And even though I was quite intrigued to see a person crying his eyes out while having a boner, I could not willingly shatter all the work he had done to fix his mental health over the course of the last couple of weeks.

Having resolved to do with it…well… nothing? I decided to go back to sleep or, at least, to lay down with my eyes open, looking at the opposite wall, stinking, and pitying myself. Just a regular morning routine.

At last the hairdryer was off, taking away not only the satan’s opera performance, but also some pressure from my head. Vacantly staring at the motivational pinterest pictures above my roommate’s bad, I still was able to feel his scrutiny of me.

‘You’re pissed.’

‘No.’

‘Kuroo!’ he yelled in such strict voice that I was suddenly very awake. When I moved my gaze at the personal alarm clock, I found him squinting at me with such expression that I didn’t know whether to be intimidated by it or to laugh. Almost by syllables, Oikawa uttered ‘You’re pissed’

‘Well, I just want to sleep’ said I, turning to lay on my back and to escape his observing eyes.

‘Well, people usually do _that_ at night, instead of scrolling TikTok’ “For you” page until 3 a.m.’

Trying to neglect the personal attack to which I was simply not prepared so early in the morning, I let out a joke:

‘People usually have sex at night’

In normal case it would’ve sounded simply unamusing and dumb, but in my state of mind the joke turned out to be more of a wistful sigh, which for a short moment made our room completely silent for the first time this damn morning. Wanting to check on how the lamentation was met, I turned my head. I was right on the moment to capture the quick change from some kind of a lost expression to the playful face with a slight smirk which could be translated into nothing but “Oh boy, are you serious?” And I have no idea how I looked at the moment, but i’m pretty sure that there was something depressing about my appearance that made him say the following phrase in a soft and even in a genuinely heartfelt voice:

‘Kuroo, we’re lonely. The best thing we can do for ourselves at night is to sleep well.’

Not wanting to participate in a conversation on such saddening topic, I resumed to studying the ceiling and returned to the matter of noise:

‘You know, you can use a bathroom for doing your hair, they have power sockets and a hu-u-uge mirror on the wall.’

I knew I touched upon the right subject because all the previous melancholy of my mental mentor was gone and replaced with decided annoyance against one single figure.

‘That fucker!’

Yes, this one figure.

‘Oh my god, I hate him so much! Somehow, he’s always there when I’m getting ready!’

The genuine irritation of the speaker actually made me laugh out loud. Oikawa, visibly glad to capture my attention, continued in a more explicit manner.

‘No, you don’t understand! He’s ALWAYS there. Shaving, cleaning his ears, washing his hands, I-I don’t know, doing whatever the fuck he wants to, but he’s always there! Looking at me with such a dumb expression that I wouldn’t be surprised to see it in my nightmare! A couple of days ago I woke up at 5 in the morning, pee-urgent, and I was actually afraid to go to the bathroom because of the thought of him watching me urinating from one of the dark corners! Laugh as much as you want to, but I’m going insane!’

‘Seriously, Kuroo,’ said he, moving from his clothes rail towards my wardrobe, probably wanting to borrow another hoodie. Well, good luck with that, dreamer, - I haven’t done laundry for almost two weeks now.

‘You and I, we need to go to a party.’ With great entertainment I watch him looking for a piece of clothing which is not stained, stinky or somewhy of an abominably large size as he keeps on his rambling. 'We’ll meet new people, have fun, drink cheap beer and dance all night long!’ He snatches a blue one from a drawer. It’s probably the only clean one, for I don’t wear it at all. I’m a depressed guy, not a fashion disaster. ‘After all, since when have we become boring?’

This one actually hurt. Recollecting the high-school adventures, the sleepless nights full of vigor, laugher and fresh air, friends, family, volleyball, the merry times when life around actually made sense, I felt it sharply.

‘Maybe we just grew up’ somewhy answer I quietly. I'm not even sure whether i want him to hear it or simply need it to be said. 

Having decided on borrowing a green hoodie which i myself have actually planned on wearing today since it was of the rare breed of moderately clean clothes i own, he said with the charming combination of easiness and confidence in his voice:

‘Growing up means you’re getting more aware of the life around you and need to pay taxes, not that you have to get depressed and give up.’

I know that it’s tough for him. Partly because I only stopped hearing ‘Wonderwall’ playing on repeat from his earphones before going to sleep about a week ago, and partly because it is so for everybody. And the fact that despite all the valid reasons to be lying in bed among empty potato chips’ bags and cookie crumbles Oikawa is able to actually take his ass to the shower, to make plans, to stay energetic, and to say something so hopeful and reassuring, actually makes me want to participate. Not because the motivational speech has magically erased all my sadness, but rather because there’s no other way to resolve it than to start trying. And besides that, he struggles too, and I’m willing to help.

I let out a sigh, and he correctly translates it into “Okay”, and it seems that we’re going to a party this Friday.


	2. in which Oikawa gets a rival

It would be a lovely Sunday afternoon, if it wasn’t a Thursday morning and the word “lovely” actually meant “terrible nature disaster”.

It’s raining like hell, the damp air is filled with the smell of wet soil, and it’s pretty chill for the middle of October. Besides from its steady attempts to vandalize my worn-out umbrella, the strong wind picks up the dust, crispy leaves, plastic bags, plastic bottles, and plastic cups (goddamn it people, stop littering our mother Earth for once). Dodging from the flying trash on my way to the nearest coffee shop, eager to grab a latte, I suddenly feel like a videogame character trying to avoid the approaching objects. However the game is rather boring since I can nowhere see a treasure chest or a huge flying heart, at least. Just puddles, leaves, and lots of flying trash.

Having completed my arcade level, and being a little soaked despite using the umbrella, I enter the coffee shop and am immediately greeted by an astonishingly handsome employee who goes away as soon as I move closer to the counter. Well…okay. To be honest, I would vanish too if I saw anyone wearing this ridiculous blue hoodie advancing towards me. Big thanks to Oikawa for stealing the last proper item of my wardrobe.

The handsome guy walks to a table where sits a seemingly displeased lady. The music, rain, conversations of the customers, and some other noises of a working café make the source of her irritation inaudible to me. Though the matter doesn’t remain a mystery for too long:

‘Oh shit, it’s all because of me’ utters a guy behind the counter whom I haven’t even noticed until now. He wears an apron on the wrong side, so I can’t see a badge with his name, and is beaming at me with some sort of lively mischief in his eyes. Noticing my interest in the little story, he bends closer over the counter and says in a voice full of secrecy, though not lowering its volume at all:

‘I forgot to add an espresso in her latte.’

I chuckle and look into his eyes. Is he even serious?

‘You forgot to add coffee… in her coffee?’ I ask, full of genuine wonder.

He heartily laughs and scratches the back of his head with a playfully guilty expression. ‘I guess I got too excited.’ He shrugs, ‘A customer was telling me such a cool story about her cat, and-and the music got so freaking energetic, and oh! this rain!’ he says, gradually becoming more and more thrilled with each “and”. ‘Man, sometimes life is just too good to remember everything!’ he concludes with a smile and turns his head towards the table by which now sits a much more untroubled woman.

And that’s it.

He doesn’t even take my order.

Really, how is this guy still employed?

Many questions are flashing through my head at once, and I’m also kind of intrigued to hear the cool cat story that made him so animated. However, it’s the unpleasant feeling of a cold raindrop rolling down my forehead that makes me wonder out loud:

‘How can anyone be excited about rain?’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Tells the barista me, _his customer_. ‘Rain is amazing!’

‘Says literally no one, ever.’

He laughs, ‘No, you don’t understand!’

Yeah, I don’t.

‘To me, it’s like a party that happens really really rare. It adds something new to the world around, makes it more interesting and kinda… challenging? It, you know, it empowers me! As if the sun is gone, and now all its energy passes to me instead.’

I’ve never seen a person in my life talking about weather with such sheer happiness. I wonder what it’s like to live being so optimistic about everything “My boss fired me! That’s empowering!”, “My mother never loved me as a child! So neat!”, “I’ll never experience true content with my life and whatever I do there’ll always remain the hole in my heart that constantly fills me with existential dread… yikes!”

Despite having the nasty thoughts, I really want to tell him something nice. However, the handsome employee I noticed first returns, and now all the attention of the second guy is payed solely to him:

‘Akaashi! What did she say?’ exclaims the optimistic one.

‘Nothing after receiving a free dessert,’ says the handsome guy with a discreet smile. And before his coworker could ask anything else, points the finger at him and adds in a strict however still charmingly soft voice ‘But the next one will be on you.’

‘Yeah, except there won’t be the next one,’ answers his colleague and playfully winks at me at the end of the sentence.

There’s always something so intimate yet so simple about the gesture. It can be done by anyone towards anyone, and still would have the same effect. You could be talking to a stranger, seeing him or her for the first time ever, and the little action implying a shared joke or a secret would probably make even that sort of conversation a bit more special. Just a tiny thing only between you two. Brief and ambiguous. I smile, amused.

‘There definitely won’t be since you’ve got so much storage work waiting to be done,’ notices Akaashi with the same calmness, meaningfully moving his gaze towards the door with the word “STORAGE” on it.

‘Oh, crap!’ exclaims the second guy and hurries into the room, being gone from the sight just as quickly as he once has appeared.

Really, why is he still employed?

I finally make an order, and then, not wanting to fall into an awkward silence, enquire about the matter preoccupying my mind:

‘So, is your coworker always… like this?’

The handsome guy gives me a rather quizzical look and smiles, trying to formulate his answer.

‘He might seem a little reckless at first, but he always means well and is sincere and hardworking.’

Something about this sentence or the way he's telling it gives me a feeling that it’s not the first time he’s asked such a question.

‘I’ve known him since we were kids and, trust me, it’s getting better’ he concludes with a smile and hands me the long-awaited cup of coffee.

I finally take a sip, and the warm liquid immediately makes me a little more talkative.

‘He’s really lucky to work with a friend who won’t yell at him for being such trouble-maker.’ I say with a smile, ready to go. Lifting eyes to Akaashi’s face to say goodbye, I meet there an expression of vague surprise.

‘It’s not a question of special treatment,’ he says, dead serious, ‘I just firmly believe that everyone’s bound to make mistakes, and the best thing you can do about it is to help them not to repeat it.’

I honestly don’t know what to answer and just give a polite smile.

I say goodbye and am ready to go. On my way to the door I throw a quick glance at the “STORAGE” room and, trying to comprehend everything that’s happened during the last 15 minutes, enter the outside world.

There, immediately met by my old friend rain, I don’t hurry to open the umbrella. Partly because I don’t want to risk separating with it forever in such a wind, and partly because I’m a little intrigued to find in it something “empowering”. I make a couple of steps further and… no. No, no, no. ‘It’s a terrible weather’, say I and open my shabby umbrella.

Moving towards the building to attend at least some of my lectures today, I, not without a smile, think about the fact that somebody’s mental mentor is much sexier than mine.


End file.
